Black Nail Polish
by Liebling
Summary: “Liar,” she said bitterly. “Puppet,” he said, his voice harsh as he met her glare. :.Pansy and Draco speak of ghosts.:


A/N: After the death of Draco's Father he sees a ghost.  
  
Pansy and Draco are both sixteen in this one. The setting is in an empty corridor.  
  
Cee is Pansy.  
  
Nolan is Draco.  
  
;)  
  
Disclaimer: All belongs to Jo Rowling  
  
*  
  
"What's up with you?" She asked with a pout on her pale face. She looked down at her black painted nails and then at him.  
  
"Nothing, Cee," was the hollow response.  
  
"You look bloody haunted," she said.  
  
"When do I not look haunted?"  
  
"Point taken," she chuckled. "But really. You look like you've seen a ghost."  
  
He would've laughed, had it not been so serious. "A ghost, Parkinson? That's rich."  
  
"Rich? When did you come about talking like your dead Uncle?"  
  
"My dead Uncle had good taste, mind you," he chimed in.  
  
"Good taste like cheap wine," she said as she rolled her scarlet eyes. "Don't lie to me, Nolan. I'm only the most intelligent little lady alive and I know you better than your own Mother does. And I know good and well that something's up."  
  
"Glad to hear you care," he said caustically. "But for a fast reminder: We're Slytherins, we aren't perceptive and we don't pressure people to hear about their 'feelings' it just doesn't happen."  
  
"Well maybe it should," she said with a careless shrug. "And I care about you and I could careless if all of Slytherin house went down."  
  
"Cee!" He shouted, as he leaned against the cold purple wall. "Go away."  
  
"Never," she laughed as she fixed her crystal necklace. "You'll never get rid of me, for the rest of your years. I think I'll haunt you after I'm stone dead too. Ooooh ooooh!" She started dancing about and went up to him and kissed his cheek. "Woooo."  
  
"Cee! Stop acting like a drunk hippogriff."  
  
"Scared?" She said with a sly grin. "Honestly."  
  
"No."  
  
"You are too," she said. "Are you about to wet yourself?"  
  
He scowled and said coldly, "just leave. I'm not in the mood."  
  
"For what?" She asked playfully.  
  
He pinched her arm, none too gently and she squealed.  
  
"You didn't have to hurt me," she said with a slight pout.  
  
"You deserved it."  
  
"Violence isn't okay, Nolan-" and she couldn't finish because she burst out laughing and simply pinched him back.  
  
"Thanks, Cee," he said sarcastically.  
  
"You're most welcome Mister. Malfoy."  
  
He stared at her black nails, "fashion statement?"  
  
"I call it the rebellion of the century," she said with a quick nod. "I am in mourning over how stupid Gryffindors are."  
  
"You actually care?" He asked, amused  
  
"No. But when has that ever been the point?" She chimed in.  
  
"True," he said.  
  
"Your Father died," she said stating a fact "...how're you coping?"  
  
"There's no coping," he laughed. "I would've jumped on his grave. I'm over it. Been over it for ages."  
  
"Ever get visions?" She questioned sincerely.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Visions," she repeated, "you know...seeing people in your sleep or ghosts or odd things like that?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," he chastised. "Did your Mummy and Daddy trick you into believing that?"  
  
"I've seen them," she said solemnly. "Auntie's pale skinny form as a ghost. She was talking to me, telling me what a prat you are--" Pansy laughed coldly.  
  
"Smart Aunt eh?"  
  
"Of course," Pansy said with a nod. "No, I'm kidding. But really. Tell. Give."  
  
"You only see a ghost if you have unresolved issues with the dead person," he reasoned. "I do not have unresolved issues with my Father."  
  
"Oh of course not," she said, her voice laden with sarcasm. "You hated him, he hated you. No issues there, right?"  
  
"Maybe a few," he shrugged. "Nope. No ghost-sighting here."  
  
"Liar," she said bitterly.  
  
"Puppet," he said, his voice harsh as he met her glare.  
  
"Don't you lie to me," she said. "Don't even try it. Don't even."  
  
"Is your Daddy going to beat me up?" He mocked  
  
"Daddy doesn't love me enough to do that for me," she said quickly. And just her voice made him feel secretly bad. "You know that, Nolan."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"I've always sort of figured we were like family, Nolan. You know type that sort of hates each other but would still die for each other? That sort of thing."  
  
"Is seeing a ghost a bad omen?" He asked.  
  
"No," she said, "it's a good sign, I think."  
  
"I saw him," he choked out. "Right before I went to sleep last night. He was muttering something really vague about 'love' and 'my son' and awfully sappy things."  
  
"The dead always do," she said dryly. "They always say things that are pitiful. But you must forgive him, and he shall go away."  
  
"Forgive him?" The young man asked, his eyes widening.  
  
"I told you," she said impatiently. "The dead just want to be understood. You can't ignore what's right in front of your eyes. He bloody loves you," she said. "And you can say you don't know over and over again but the truth is...he does."  
  
He sighed.  
  
"And don't lie to him," she said. "Don't say 'I know' you've got to feel it, right here," she pointed to his heart.  
  
"Will do," he said sarcastically.  
  
"Do it," she said. "And you'll be--happy."  
  
"I'll never be happy."  
  
"You'll be happy enough."  
  
"Right then," he said. "We're late for Potions."  
  
"So?" She questioned a grin on her face.  
  
"So...? Pansy? This rebellion of yours is getting way out of hand. We've really got to work on that," he said with a chuckle.  
  
"It's the black nail polish," she said with a grin.   
  
"No," he smiled, "it's in you."  
  
She linked arms with him and they walked slowly to Potions. Both wanting to be late.  
  
Really late.  
  
Too late.  
  
* 


End file.
